Accusations and Sentencing
by HughloverX
Summary: Someone has comitted murder in the OG's domain and and everyone thinks it is the work of the Phantom. How will Erik save himself from the accusations and Christine? first phic so be kind
1. Chapter 1

Hey, here's my first shot at a Phan. It will be chapters (that is if you like this first one). Please please PLEASE review. Thank you.

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Dashing down an inky black alleyway, a man found himself in a dead-end. How fitting a word that was for the poor man. After breathing in gulps of air he turned, fear in his eyes as he clung to the thing he alone had been trusted with, a piece of paper with writing and a map on it. There seemed to be nothing but darkness and rain behind him. After sighing in relief, he looked down at the paper he held in cold shaking hands. That was the last thing he saw, and the last feeling he deciphered in his panicked mind was a rope around his throat. Turning he saw a ghost pulling and snapping the life from him in one swift motion.

* * *

Raoul le Vicomte de Chagny sat in his favorite comfy chair in his favorite country cottage reading his newspaper by the fireplace. His wife Christine Daae, the world known opera singer, sat across from him daintily writing in her diary. It had been a year since the events at the Opera Paris Opera House. The moment they were out from the abyss of darkness Raoul had wanted to flee knowing deep down that the monster that had preyed on his love would not give up so easily. Still, Christine would not leave the country. She trusted that her "Angel of Music" would leave them in peace. No matter what had happened she still knew that he cared for her and would want her happy.

Suddenly a stern rap on the door disrupted their peaceful tranquility. Walking over to the door, Raoul opened it to find a French police officer standing in the dreary rain.

"Monsieur de Chagny?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Yes?" Raoul asked standing aside and letting the man in the uniform enter.

"Excuse me for disturbing you at such a late hour but…" he trailed noticing the women sitting inside. Pulling Raoul aside he continued, "Monsieur, there has been a murder near the Opera House. The man had a rope burns around his neck. In his hand was this address on the back of a map of the tunnels under the Opera. I thought it best to notify you considering what had happened…before."

Raoul stood for a moment in utter shock. _Has he returned? He will haunt us again! Why can't he leave us be. He cannot win her love by making her his prisoner again. No! He will not take her! _Rushing over he took Christine's hand, helping her up.

"Raoul? What happened?" she asked worried about her friends back in Paris.

"_He_ has returned Christine," Raoul said shortly wanting to leave right away.

"Who?" she asked dreading the answer.

"That monster! The one that took you into that dark void under the Opera House!" he seethed hating what had happened to them. He helped her out of the couch and stood waiting for her to pack. She stood there quiet in thought.

"No…Erik let me go…" she whispered not believing it.

"Your phantom, _the_ Phantom of the Opera, _the _Opera Ghost! He's killed before and killed again! Christine we must leave! He knows where we are Christine. I don't know how, but he knows! He had this address on the back of a map of the Opera House. Christine, he knows!"

"But…no…Erik wouldn't do-"

"He's done it before Christine!" Raoul interrupted rather angry with her for defending the man that had tried to take her from him and happiness. Softening a bit he added, "Please?"

Finally giving in Christine nodded and left to pack. Raoul looked over at the officer and shrugged. Going over to him he showed him to the door and thanked him for the warning.

"Be careful Monsieur," the officer said while standing in the doorway, not wanting to return to the rain. "If you need an escort…don't hesitate to call us."

"Thank you, but I don't think it would help. He is a master magician. I have seen him disappear in a room full of people. Goodnight officer. We've escaped before…we shall do it again. Send some men into the tunnels below the Opera. He's probably still there."

"Good luck sir…"

"Thank you. We will need it" _And so will you, clever friend_

_

* * *

Christine I love you…_

That was the only music dancing in his head. It was so pure, simple and real. How could he ever do, sing, write, or feel anything that could compare to that? The music of the night was gone and the only thing left was the remains of the one beam of light that had been in his life, Christine.

A sob escaped him, filling the void of silence in the cold dark room. His angel, his light, his love, his Christine had left him. He had told her and her Vicomte to leave him and the abyss he was trapped in for an eternal hell. The mob, he could hear, had been searching for his blood. In his state, he thought that it might be best to let them have him. What more could there be in life without his Christine? Although, this was going through his mind, he knew in his heart that he could not just give in that easily. Madame Giry and Naidar needed him. Also, pride would not let the Phantom of the Opera be taken by a mob of simpletons with pitchforks.

So he "disappeared" from sight and traveled down the tunnels, which he had called home foe a good 20 years, escaping the mob, but running into his old friend Madame Giry. Turning from her he tried to hide his masked face out of shame and habit. Feeling her hand grasp his he looked up at her stern glare.

"Erik, we must go," she said forcefully, leaving him no room to argue. Dumbly, he followed her and her lantern upward. They passed the furnaces and came upon the climb up to the stairs. Helping the aging ballet mistress out, Erik pulled himself up. Once he was up he noticed how quiet it had gotten.

"There are more after you now Erik. How could you?" she asked looking at him suspiciously.

"So? I have done nothing," he told her defensively. "I have been fixing my things that the mob had broken when…after _Don Juan_. What are they after me again?"

"You have not gone up to the daylight have you?"

"Nor moonlight. I have been…mourning."

Madame Giry looked at Erik full of pity. He had had such a hard life and did not deserve this heartbreak. Standing and putting a hand on his shoulder she hushed him. Feeling a sob from him, she knew that he would be no good as a sobbing mess here while a mob came for him.

"Erik, come. We must get you somewhere safe. I will take you to Naidar's flat. Please Erik, we must leave."

She helped him stand up and began up the tunnel into daylight. They walked quickly into an alleyway to escape the large crowd. Erik stopped and pulled the ballet teacher back.

"What has happened? Is Christine safe?" he asked worried and ready to have a reason to strangle the fop and take care of Christine.

"There has been a murder Erik," she started.

Erik assumed the worse. In his mind's eye he saw his beloved Christine sprawled in a dark alley with her skirt pulled up and her face bloodied. Her perfect jaw hung broken and lifeless, never to be able to produce those heavenly notes again. Her lush brown eyes, now grey and staring up lifelessly into a void of nothingness. She was dead. Gone from him again and forever.

"No…no…" he whispered to himself feeling a tear glide down the flawless side of his face.

"Erik, it was with a lasso…"

The picture of her in his mind changed. Her face was now blue from lack of air. Around her porcelain neck was a deep dark purple-blue bruise.

"Erik?"

He leaned heavily against the wall sobbing. His angel was gone…

"Who?" was all that he could get out.

"Everyone thought it was you Erik. The lasso…the map of the Opera House…Christine and the Vicomte's address…"

"What? Christine's address? He went to her home?" He knew he should have watched over her every night instead of once in awhile. Why had he listened to logic rather than heart?

"They are not sure yet. Oh Erik, just tell me it was not you who killed that poor man."

"Man?"

"Yes, were you not listening? A man was killed Erik."

"A man…" he said in relief. "Who was it?"

"We…are not sure. He seemed to have been from the East. He was like the Persian."

"Daroga?"

"Like him Erik. No one knows the details," she was cut off by the sound of people approaching. "Come. We must get you somewhere safe."

With one turn to see how far away they were from the Opera House, they turned and continued on their way. After a long walk they were outside a large old building. Erik had been there before. The top flat of the building belonged to his friend from Persia, the one who had let him go and saved him from certain death sentenced by the Shah of Persia, the once policeman, Naidar Khan. Walking up the long stairwell, he finally came to the door. If was odd for him to walk or ask access through a front door, for he had been so used to "appearing" in a room as he thought fit. Knocking lightly, he and Madame Giry waited. The door opened and he saw his old friend.

"Daroga," Erik said while tipping down he fedora.

"The Trapdoor-Lover using the front door? And showing the ballet mistress to a nice walk? Something must be wrong. Come in, come in," he said trying to make light of the situation. He turned so that they could enter his home.


	2. Chapter 2

'Lo there all you happy readers! Here's my update. ((Btw, people who get this…"Erik I love you!" and they kept going.))

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The Persian's flat was rather small and only mildly decorated. There was a rather large Persian rug in the center of the living room, which connected to the dining room, kitchen and a hallway to the bedrooms. Beside the rug were an overstuffed couch and a table that had many papers with the former policeman's writing scribbled on it. The wallpaper on the walls was as old as the building itself and was turning a yellow tinge with age and had started to peel itself away from the wall. Naidir brought over a chair from the kitchen and sat down waiting for his guests to sit in the couch.

"Excuse the mess my friend. I have been working…" Naidir said trying to get his papers out of view.

"Wait," Erik ordered taking a page and reading it. The whole room seemed to hold its breath waiting for what the Phantom would do and if he would allow for the orderly evacuation of the papers. "You're taking notation on what had happened that night?" he roared as he feverishly started to grab and rip any page within his grasp.

"Erik! STOP!" both Naidir and Madame Giry yelled as they grappled with Erik trying to get the papers from him and not get hurt themselves. They knew that when he was in a rage, there was no telling what he would do, even if they were his only friends.

"You can NOT do this Daroga!" Erik yelled as he lunged at the Persian, but the mounds of papers that had collected restrained him near his feet and also the stern grip of Madame Giry. "It's _my_ life! It's not yours to document," he growled as he sat back into the old couch.

"I am sorry my friend. I was out of place…but you must admit, it is a truly wondrous tale," Naidir said while sitting back across from the two on the couch. Erik simply glared at him from behind the mask.

"Have you heard about the recent murder that occurred near the Opera House?" Madame Giry asked wanting to continue why they were here after sending a chiding glare to Erik.

"Yes I have. I was going to go have a chat with you Erik about that. You do realize how serious this is don't you?" he asked.

"I am not a child," the Opera Ghost snapped at both the ballet mistress and the Persian. "I know the offense all to well, but I promise you both, I did not kill that man!" he said darkly making his voice cut through the quiet of the room.

"We aren't saying that you did Erik," Madame Giry said trying to ameliorate his short temper.

"But…the police are. My friend, you must be careful, now more than ever. They know how you look and sound and most importantly, that you are just a man and have weaknesses just as the rest of us," he Persian explained as if it were a death sentence.

"My old friend, one cannot catch me that easily. You of all people know that," Erik stated as he stood. He was restless and didn't want to stay there being accused. After counting to 100 to himself he asked the question that was lingering on his mind since he first found out about this murderer, "Will he seek out Christine?"

* * *

The carriage ride to their destination of Normandy was a rough one. Most of the time Christine rested against Raoul hoping that what he had said was not the truth. _Why would he kill? Was that man trying to hurt poor Erik?_ She had been feeling sick since she had heard the news, but Raoul dismissed it as nerves. This pain, she knew was in her heart and had been there since they left the Opera House and now had been renewed. It was the pain of heartache, loss and guilt. Deep down, she dearly missed her teacher and Angel of Music. She worried constantly about him and scoured the papers to see if they had found him or if anything happened to him. Also, without Raoul's knowing she paid visits to the church to pray for him.

A large bump in the ride to their new home jostled her from her thoughts. Looking up at her husband she noticed how tense he was and she assumed it was from nerves and worries. He kept a steady gaze out the window at the mundane and melancholy landscaped that past by.

"Raoul?" she asked trying to shake him from his thoughts, which she assumed was the damning of her Angel of Music, the Phantom of the Opera.

"Yes Little Lotte?" he asked feigning a smile.

"I'll be fine. He won't-"

"He's done it before Christine!" he snapped cutting her off. "Christine…Christine please. I just want you to be safe. We're almost there."

Christine sighed and looked out the window to see a large cottage coming into view. It was a lovely looking white cottage with a garden and a beach below the cliff it was located on. Pulling up, the driver got their bags for them and started inside. After getting their things somewhat organized they paid the man and he left. Christine sat a small writing table.

"Raoul? Where is the stationary?" she called to him.

"Why?" Raoul grunted as he heaved one of her bags up the stairs.

"I want to write to Meg. Oh! I've found it," she said finding the paper she needed and began writing.

Dearest Meg,

I pray that everything is fine with yourself, Gustov, and your mother. I am so happy that you found Gustov. It's a wonderful match if I do say so myself. Raoul and myself have moved due to the events that happened recently at the Opera House. We're here at a beautiful white cottage in Normandy right on the beach. Raoul thinks that it will keep me safe from _him_. I know that he will do no harm to me nor you or Madame Giry, but you know how Raoul worries. Do you know any details on what has happened there at the Opera? Was it really _him_? I'm probably not thinking straight, but I do not believe he has done a thing. Please, if you could, send my greetings and love to your mother and give the other letter enclosed to her to give to _him_. Please do this for me my friend.

Love,

Christine

After folding the note neatly she took out another piece of paper.

Erik,

I pray the rumors are not true and you have not done any harm at the Opera House again. Know that killing will not bring me back. I am happy with Raoul and we are living in peace. I do thank you for letting me have this peace and I can't even begin to grasp how much pain I have caused you. Please accept my apologies for I never meant harm. I never meant to harm my Angel of Music. Please, do not take this letter the wrong way for I do love my life and will not return to the Opera, though I do miss it so. Thank you for all that you have given me and I hope my fallen angel has found some peace.

Christine

Sealing both and writing to who should receive each, she put them both in an envelope and walked briskly out to catch the mail carrier. She could not let Raoul see the letters, but she knew deep down that even a ghost should find some amount of peace. His cry as she left him still haunted her in her sleep. The image of him standing on the shore defeated, alone and heartbroken calling out to her as she looked back made her shiver and become on the verge of tears. _"Christine I love you! You alone can make my song take flight! It's over now, the Music of the Night!"_ The moment she heard those heart wrenching words she felt all hope in him and her die. She said a short prayer that the sweet angelic music hadn't died within him and that one day she would see her teacher again and then turned back to enter again into her life with Raoul. Softly, she almost heard the Phantom's song in her head again.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all you happy people. Now, if you are reading this…REVIEW! Got that?

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"Who is this man?" Erik roared at the two. It had been a frustratingly few days that Erik stayed with his old friend Nadir. Madame Giry stopped by everyday to be sure that Erik had stayed and did not kill the once police chief. She had told them both that the mob was still searching in the caverns, which meant that Erik could not return to his lair just yet. The only strange thing was that the police had left. The once Phantom of the Opera knew that bloodlust was and would always be stronger than the law no matter what his Persian friend would say. This, of course, frustrated him to no end because he wanted to search his domain for this killer who was framing him. Any other time, he would not have cared, but he had to take care of his angel for he knew that her husband, the fop, could never do that job.

"Erik, calm yourself," the Persian chided sipping at his tea trying to be patient, though he thought that digging a hole to the other side of the Earth would be easier. He looked towards the ballet mistress for help in calming the pacing masked tiger in his home.

"How?" the Opera Ghost spat while walking past Nadir for what must have been the 100th time. "I am getting framed by a man in my home threatening my Christine!"

"She's not yours!" Madame Giry yelled at him after having enough of it all. They stayed in silence while both men stared at the women. "She has a husband Erik. You must take care of yourself now. Her husband will protect-"

"He won't!" Erik yelled not wanting to hear her truth. He still wanted to hold the idea of her being a child looking up to him for hope and guidance. He was her Angel of Music. She had called him an angel and had loved him for being her angel. When she had found that he was instead of an angel, but a demon, she had left.

"Erik," Madame Giry said softly while patting his arm, stirring him from his cell inside his mind. "Erik? You truly haven't done a thing since your opera," she said in awe. Since the day she had met him he was always doing something whether it be drawing, writing, composing, inventing, building or anything else that piqued his interest. Now, she saw for a fact that he had done one thing and that was rest with his broken heart. She felt horrible now for thinking that he was in anyway involved. "But then…how did you send that note?"

"What note?" the Phantom asked confused at what she had said. The last time he had written a note was before his opera.

Madame Giry looked in the folds of her coat and pulled out a piece of parchment with red ink. Before she had a chance to read it Erik tore it from her grasp and began to read the blood-red ink.

_Fondest Greetings,_

_I will be staying here at your Opera House for an extended period of time. I wish for you all to leave us be as we search for an old acquaintance and get rid of the ghosts of this opera house. You will offer the very best to us and not go down should you be keen on keeping your life._

_Regards,_

_SoP_

In his anger Erik crumpled the note and began shredding the parchment. "Damn whomever this person is! How dare they made a mockery of all I have done. I will go and remove them from my home! Damn them! Curse them!" he roared as he begun to storm off. Nadir stood in front of the door not allowing him a way out.

"Erik, think about what you have just read. They are looking for you. Who knows what they could do?" he questioned. "You cannot act rash."

"I can act anyway I would like. They are making a mockery of me!"

"They also want to 'get rid' of you. Erik, please…you've put your life at risk for so long, why now? There is nothing to protect except your life."

"Forget your pride for once Erik!" Madame Giry yelled at him holding his arm.

Erik stayed silent. Both Nadir and Madame Giry knew that Erik hadn't given up yet, but was actually planning. Erik was not a man to give up. The word 'impossible' did not exist to him. Nadir walked over to him.

"Come on…let's have some tea."

All of them went into the kitchen. Erik stayed quiet lost in his thoughts and planning. Without his notice Madame Giry left to talk with the Persian.

"He will not let this go," she whispered to him.

"He doesn't let anything go. He remembers everything and does everything. A da Vinci man."

"You're not helping," she growled.

"There is not way to stop him. You know that. He is a master magician, ventriloquist, architect, inventor, artist, scientist, vocalist and anything else you could imagine. We cannot stop this man. I have seen him drive men to madness and their death and guide others to a superb life with a happy end. Everything seems to be on a whim, but believe me; he'll think it through. He fights through everything with the grace of a cat, cunning of a fox, strength of a tiger, and the gentleness of a lamb and the heart of a lion. Not even a room full of armed French guards with the doors barred and all exits watched could stop him from doing what he wanted. Madame, it is quite impossible to hold him and his imagination," he said with a small smirk and a nod in the direction of the living room, knowing the Phantom was listening to every word. "We should just leave him be. Whatever happens, it will be his choice. He can't blame anyone for his own injuries whether it be physical or otherwise."

"I will be quite fine. Stop worrying over me like an old hen," Erik muttered from the other room with a small smile of knowing.

Madame Giry walked over to the contiguous room with the tea. "Please stay here for one more night. Please Erik? Let me at least look around. Now sit still and drink your tea."

They all sat together discussing what they would do. Before the night was through they wanted a plan or at least a beginning of one.

* * *

Meg Giry rushed over to the mail carrier. "Did I get anything Monsieur?" she asked.

"Here you are Mademoiselle," the man said handing her her letter.

She took it and ran to her room. Looking at the pack of letters she found a note from Normandy. "How strange, this letter's open…"


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's been so long since an update.

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Christine had soon gotten settled in to her new home in Normandy. It wasn't like Paris at all, but it held it's own beauty with its high cliffs and stormy seas. Most of the time the skies were gray and cloudy, but there was a sort of beauty in it all because sometimes there was just one ray of sunlight beaming through the tremulous clouds showing that there was hope of bright skies. Times like these made the once prima donna think of her Angel of Music. He was always so dark and cold, but there was some shining feature that enwrapped her and kept her needing more and more of the genius.

"Christine, don't stand so close to the edge," Raoul called joining her. She seemed to lose herself at times in thought and he only wished she would tell him what she was thinking of.

"Oh…" she murmured stepping back. "I'm sorry Raoul. I was…I was thinking that's all."

"About what my dear?"

She stayed silent, not wanting to bring up bad memories with her husband. He always had gotten very jealous when she mentioned her time in the Opera House. Though she hadn't said anything, he knew by her silence what she was thinking about.

"Why Christine? We've escaped him! You're safe from him here with me," he told her taking her in his arms.

"I'm not worried about him Raoul. I honestly don't think that he had-"

"Christine please!"

She sighed knowing that it was useless to argue. He truly believed that it was Erik's fault, though in her heart she knew he hadn't unless it was something extreme that he had done. No, she knew Erik well. She knew that emotions lasted quite a long time in him and slowly consumed him. This was much too soon for him to be haunting the Opera House again.

"Why don't we go inside? It's freezing out," he said leading her into her into their cottage.

They had made themselves comfortable in their living room by the fire. Christine had gotten out her diary and began to write in it her thoughts, feelings and what she did during the day while Raoul sat in his comfortable chair reading. Just as they got cozy there was a knock at the door.

* * *

"Erik, there has been another note issued," Madame Giry said as she walked through Nadir's door.

"Good afternoon to you," Nadir said closing the door behind her. "What does this note say?"

"I am not certain. It was left in your box," she said giving Erik the envelope, which was sealed in his red wax skull seal. On the front of it read "Angel of Doom". Erik stared at it pondering everything that had arisen since he had fled his lair. Pieces began to fit into place in his mind. This was no sadly formed Parisian mob out for blood. No, these were people that he had worked for before and knew the extent to his heartless brutality. After a few moments he sat down continuing to stare at the envelope.

"Erik?" Nadir asked going over to his friend and looking over his shoulder. "Allah!" he whispered fearing what he had read. Without realizing it he dropped his cup of tea and stared wide-eyed at it also.

"What is it? What's wrong?" the ballet mistress stood staring at the men. "Do you know who is down there? Or what they want?"

"Yes…yes we do. _The young fellow_," Erik muttered feeling for once worried over his life. They had tried to kill him once and he had barely escaped. The only reason he was alive now was because of the Persian man standing beside him. "The Shah of Persia."

* * *

Hope that's good for now. Review please. 


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